Fatal Reverie
by MoonMyst
Summary: He didn’t seem to care about the rest of the world’s petty problems anymore, favoring the safety of his own mind – the strange comfort the dead beings gave him. For that is what he had seen his entire life – death.


**Fatal Reverie**

**By: M o o n M y s t**

**10.11.03 11:11 PM**

Somehow he felt it – somehow it was in the back of his mind. It crept silently, careful to distort his every thought subtly, but never the less alter. It was too pure of inspiration to be real, too life-like to be fake. And how could he say no to his desires? How could he give in to his destitution?

But that was how they were – always playing on his yearnings and teasing his very needs. They knew his every move before he did – they had a counter for every shot. He was defenseless to their will, and yet he never gave up. For such is the battle with one's own mind one feels it necessary to persist.

The vivid moon was concealed by a pale trace of haze, diluting the brilliant silver light that often accompanied him wherever he went. Heero sighed, how long had been since he had really looked? How long had it been since the quiet light looked down on his face protectively? _ Too long_.

Usually the soldier took the night as a time for recuperation, preferring the night for sleep, not to think about his already complex life. But then that was what dreams were for – to assess the actions of the day. Only now, Heero had given up on imaginings – they had failed him in a way so inconceivable he could barely fathom it himself.

They had their nightly rituals for sunlit hauntings – following his every move. The girl, that little innocent girl, she was there sometimes, just like the hundreds of people he had killed – guilty and blameless alike. They had taken a hold of his conscience and overwhelmed his mind with insane thoughts.

At first he had thought death was the only answer – that killing himself meant killing the nightmares. But he knew that playing on his morality meant playing on the morality of the worlds, for he knew that there would be very little life left if he took his own.

Peace. Was that the real answer? Or was it just another delusional concept thought up by hypocrites to fuel their own need for meaning in their shallow lives? Everything he knew contradicted harmony, everything he had learned, that was. He rarely took into consideration his feelings and senses – and if he did it was only to use the passion that flowed from them for conflicting purposes.

He didn't seem to care about the rest of the world's petty problems anymore, favoring the safety of his own mind – the strange comfort the dead beings gave him. For that is what he had seen his entire life – death. The two were not strangers, but comfortable acquaintances, that usually never took the time to disturb the other. But now it was different, they had escaped from their hiding place in his heart and were not loose in his head. They wanted something of him – what, he did not know.

Heero sighed indulgently at the terrifying thoughts. They were but figments of his imagination – just there to scare him into silence.

He looked once more at the fading moon, its beautiful luminosity clearing his swirling brain. The dewy grass beneath his slim body sent quiet shivers up his spine; maybe he hadn't lost all control of his sensations.

The Japanese youth rolled over onto his side, distracting himself with the tiny flower that lay in front of him. It's petite beauty making him rest a weary hand upon its tiny petal. Alluring grace pleading with him to end its misery, the crumpled bloom asking for pity. He had killed countless people, but ending the short life of this delicate blossom pained his heart – the organ that he had used only to pump blood.

In a crazed moment he felt remorse that such a small thing should be destroyed so quickly – and so he thought of his own life, and how short a time it would take to pull the trigger.

His hand slid to the gun that sat uselessly beside him. How foreboding the elegant metal seemed when it rested next to him. One might never guess it could cause such unprejudiced death. How alike it was to himself. And then he thought of the damage he could inflict, that he had inflicted, that he might inflict. And somehow he knew it had to stop – he couldn't continue like this – there had to be an end somehow.

And so it ended with one single shot. A shot more precise and careful than he had ever attempted in his short life. And so came the end of Heero Yuy, the soldier so indestructible that only he could kill himself, a soldier so mindful that even the nightmare could not control him. A boy who longed for the peace that only came from death.

_A dedication to my dear friend MatM whose constant fight with duty never clouded his humanity._

**A/N-**this is the edited version of my first GW fanfic. *sigh* I know people were unhappy with the ending of this story, but understand that there was a sequel, but I'm still unsure if I should post it. Loves Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or characters from the show.


End file.
